


if you give a mouse a cookie...

by adyadintheforce



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Breastfeeding, F/M, Lactation Kink, Single mom Rey, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adyadintheforce/pseuds/adyadintheforce
Summary: ..he's gonna want a glass of milk.Rey has been storing her breast milk pumped at work in an empty bottle of creamer and notices some of it has gone missing. Her boss, Ben Solo, has been using it in his coffee by mistake. When he finds out, he's not as upset about it as she thought he'd be.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 30
Kudos: 172





	if you give a mouse a cookie...

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter made me do it, smut in later chapters. Enjoy with a warm glass of milk and cookies of your own.

With a scrunched nose, Rey perches on the edge of the toilet and unzips the bag on her knees. The floor is cracked, she notices as her eyes wander while her hands commit the familiar process of assembling her pump. Her toe taps the crack in the tile idly and she notices the nail polish that Rose had painstakingly painted on her toenails ( _“You can’t keep wearing sandals with your toenails this gnarly, Rey.”_ ) was chipped. It’s like watching dominoes fall. Tile. Nails. Pump. She looks at the stupid, clunky thing finally and huffs. She shouldn’t complain, it was free with the company’s shitty insurance and some moms didn’t even have that. Shifting to place it on her lap, she slips her hand back in the bag that’s now covering the cracked tile and feels a flip in her tummy when she finds the pocket she’s searching empty. No bags. “Fuck,” she hisses to herself, looking around like there’s someone else in the stall to give her answers or maybe something she can catch her milk in. Or she could wait til she got home. 

One press on her tender left breast, the one that always produced like she had triplets instead of one perfect baby girl, tells her that’s not an option. She would hand express if she wasn’t so shit at it every time she tried and ended up mangling her tit that barely had any surface area to grab. Grumbling in annoyance, she stands up and shoves her pump back into her bag and leaves it there on the floor before stepping out of the stall. There’s someone at the sinks, eyeing her strangely like she had no idea what a woman could possibly be frustrated about in a bathroom. Rey forces a smile and then points to her bag as she backs up out of the restroom, “Can you watch that for me? Just one sec, please. Thanks!” She yells it over her shoulder as she mad dashes into the hallway and glances around on her way to the break room. It was stupid but she felt like everyone was staring at her, like they could see the little wet spots forming on her top even though she was wearing black and it was barely enough to be visible even to her.

In the break room she immediately opens one of the cupboards for the stack of foam coffee cups that usually resided there, only to come up empty. She groans, taking care not to slam the cupboard shut in anger and more of a very frustrated firm thud. Her jaw was ticking, teeth clenched as she thought about her pump sitting on the bathroom floor with some strange lady from sales watching it. If she was watching it. Rey wouldn’t be surprised if she came back to find it abandoned. Tucking her lip between her teeth, she does another look around before her eyes land on the fridge. _Oh…_ Her grimace turns to a wide grin and before long she’s walking fast on her tiptoes back to the bathroom with her mostly empty bottle of creamer in her hand. She went through so many bottles a week, she’s not sure why she didn’t think of it sooner. The lid was just small enough to wedge beneath the pump attachment she usually used for her bags too, and with some careful positioning, it should work fine. 

“Hey, thank-” she says giddily as she slides into the bathroom to find it empty. Sighing, she heads to the sink and dumps out the leftover creamer that would barely fix a cup for her anyway. “Typical,” she murmurs as she glances at her bag still safely sitting on the floor. Rinsing the bottle a few times, she starts doing a sort of hop/dance like she has to pee when really it’s to distract from the pressure growing behind her nipples. She felt like if she lifted her arms too high, her breasts would explode. It’s a relief when she sits down on the toilet again, kicking the door closed behind her. That’s not a feeling she was used to considering how gross it was that the company didn’t provide her a proper space for pumping. But it was either her car with zero AC or the bathroom. The choice was obvious, though unfortunate, but today she was just focused on the instant satisfaction and relief the pump brought her. And keeping the bottle positioned to catch the milk that was basically gushing out of her. Of course it took a little longer, having to go one breast at a time, but she was still making it back to her desk with a minute left on her break. The creamer bottle was safely in the fridge where she’d grabbed it from, only now with her name in even bigger block letters across the lid and front rather than the hurried scribble it bore before.

“Thursday,” she hears the deep voice come from behind her before a file drops on her desk. **GRIMTAASH** it read in all bold caps across the front, with a serial number beneath it in fresh ink. Ben Solo placed his hand on the wall of her cubicle as he stopped, though his eyes were elsewhere almost with a laser focus. In his opposite hand he lazily held an empty cup, dangling from his long fingers. It almost looked like one of those cups they sold with children’s tea sets, but she knew just about everything looked ridiculously small in his hands. He clears his throat, lifting his hand off her cubicle to gesture at the file on her desk. “I need a redesign by Thursday. They’re not happy with the open domes. Apparently you should have taken the whole week I gave you in the first place, huh?” With that he finally looks at her, though briefly and with that odd glint in his eye that made her belly flutter, and then he’s headed to the break room without giving her a chance to argue. 

Rey watches him go, mentally rehearsing all the reasons why he _wasn’t_ attractive. “Jackass,” she mutters before flipping the folder open and quickly scanning the notes. It would be a quick ‘fix’ though not a necessary one, which he ought to know but they had clients to satisfy. And she doubted he’d go to bat for just one of his many designers and developers of a multi-million dollar security company. She was expendable, as her twice daily trips to the women’s restroom reminded her, and she was fine with that as long as she was able to keep this job and keep a roof over Callie’s head. Her eyes dart to the picture of the brunette baby on her cubby wall, her big eyes beaming at the camera. Instantly, Rey feels her heart rate go down and she’s able to smile before looking down at the folder in front of her. That is until Mr. Solo heads back around and tosses a small stack of napkins onto her desk without a word. 

Perplexed, she looks down to find her top scrunched up and wet from where she thought she’d safely tucked it under her bra while she was pumping. Maybe the seal between her pump and the creamer bottle wasn’t so tight after all. Rey can’t help but look up at her boss as he headed back to his office, her cheeks flushed, only to find him still looking at her over his shoulder with his now full mug at his lips. That doesn’t hide his smirk though and she has to fight the compulsion to chuck her tablet at his head. Luckily, his office door closes before her self-control snaps and she huffs as she turns back around to look down at the open folder, tips of her ears burning. Today was not a good day. Before she can forget, she combats the embarrassment by grabbing a post-it note to write a reminder to herself. _Pack milk bags, dumbass._ Then she sticks it on the outside of her pump bag before kicking it under her desk.


End file.
